


Heads They Win, Tails You’re Gonna Lose

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: Angel Adrift [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Darcy is Michael, Gen, tony is gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson was heading home for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heads They Win, Tails You’re Gonna Lose

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one is a little different from the rest of the series; it's not from Michael's POV, and it's a one-shot, not a multi-chaptered fic.
> 
> It's also the last planned fic in the series. There may be more later, or this may be the last story.
> 
> Also, 43,000+ words in like two weeks, go me! New record!

**Heads They Win, Tails You’re Gonna Lose**

Phil Coulson was heading home for Christmas.

Fury had tried to block it at the last minute, of course – with the mess at Advanced Idea Mechanics and the arrest of the Mandarin, there was a hell of a lot of work to do. But Phil had flatly refused, pointing out that he’d filed for vacation time a year ago, and he wasn’t about to miss out on seeing his family on Christmas Day _yet again_ just because Fury didn’t think Sitwell could handle it. Fury had been forced to concede that Sitwell would do an adequate job, even if he wasn’t Phil, and so here Phil was, driving out to his sister’s place.

For once Phil was dressed casually, in a pair of track pants and the sweater his Mom had posted out to him last year, after he’d been forced to cancel last year’s Christmas visit. The heating in the car was turned up, and big band music was playing. All in all, Phil felt light-hearted and carefree, looking forward to seeing everyone for the first time in ages.

Eventually he pulled up in front of his sister’s house, and got out of the car. A box of presents was in the trunk, and Phil got it out, and shut the trunk, locking the car with a press of a button. The car hadn’t had originally possessed automatic locking, but then, Phil had put in a number of things that hadn’t originally been part of the car. And that was taking into account the fact that the car was a Howard Stark special.

Hefting the box of presents, Phil headed towards the front door, and managed to press the front doorbell.

Inside he could make out muffled yelling, and a moment later the door was opened by a small blonde-haired girl wearing track pants and a bright green shirt with a reindeer on it.

“Uncle Phil!” she squealed, and tackled his legs.

“Hello, April,” Phil greeted her, trying to look down past the box to the top of his niece’s head. After a moment April let go and danced back, her eyes widening as she realised what was in the box Phil was carrying.

“You brought presents!” she exclaimed in tones of gleeful wonder.

“Some of them might even be for you,” Phil agreed, smiling. “Where’s your Mom?”

April turned to yell down the hallway.

“MOM! It’s Uncle Phil!”

“I told you not to open the door!” a familiar voice shouted back. A few moments later Phil’s sister appeared, her expression torn between exasperation and welcome.

“You know you’re not supposed to open the door, April,” Jeannie scolded her daughter. “Leave it to me or your father.”

“But Dad was drinking beer with Grandpa!” April protested. “Somebody had to get the door.”

Jeannie muttered something uncomplimentary about her husband under her breath, before smiling at Phil.

“Phil,” she said. “So glad you could make it this year.” There was a slight emphasis on _this year._

“Don’t start,” said Phil. “And I’m glad to be here.”

“No last-minute disasters you had to clean up?” Jeannie was drifting back down the hallway as she talked. Phil followed.

“There were, actually,” he said, “but I convinced my boss to let someone else deal with them, for a change.”

“Good,” said Jeannie decisively. The two siblings walked into the living room, where sure enough, Jeannie’s husband, Mycroft, was sitting with Phil’s Dad, arguing and drinking beer.

Mycroft had been named by a parent with an unfortunate fondness for Sherlock Holmes novels; his younger brother was Sherlock, and his elder sister was named Irene. Both Mycroft and Sherlock maintained that Irene had been lucky.

“Mike, you were supposed to get the door!” Jeannie said, interrupting the discussion. She glared at her husband. “Instead April got it.”

“Oh, dammit,” said Mycroft. “April, honey, you know you’re not supposed to open the door. What if it’s a stranger?”

“But it was Uncle Phil,” April argued reasonably, bouncing in place. “And look! He brought presents!”

“Dad, Mike,” Phil said, nodding to both of them. “Jeannie, where can I put this down?”

“Just put it down near the tree,” said Jeannie, nodding towards where the Christmas tree stood in the corner, lovingly decorated. So Phil walked over and put the box of presents down, April trailing hopefully after him. She peered into the box.

“April, leave those presents alone, they’re not to be opened until after lunch,” said Jeannie. “Don’t even touch them.”

Jeannie looked faintly harassed, and Phil wondered if Mycroft and his Dad had just been sitting around letting Jeannie do all the work.

“Where’s Mom?” Phil asked.

“She’s checking the potatoes,” Jeannie said, and gave him a hug. “It really is good to see you, Phil.”

“You too,” Phil agreed. “Do you and Mom want some help?”

“Not from you,” said Jeannie bluntly. “Mike!”

“Yeah?”

“You’re supposed to be helping me with lunch!” Jeannie told him.

“I was just talking to your Dad,” Mycroft said.

“Well, talk to him later,” said Jeannie. “You need to carve the turkey.”

Mycroft sighed, and abandoned his seat and his beer.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and disappeared into the kitchen, followed by Jeannie.

“How’s work?” Phil’s Dad asked, with a grin, gesturing for Phil to take Mycroft’s vacated sit.

“Still classified,” said Phil, sitting down. “I don’t know why you keep asking, Dad. You know I can’t talk about it.”

“Maybe I just like the reminder that my son is an international man of mystery,” said his Dad, smiling.

“I’m not a spy,” Phil said.

 _Just their handler_ , he thought.

“Maybe, maybe not,” said his father agreeably. “But until I know for certain what it is you actually do, in my head you’re a spy. You’d make a wonderful James Bond.”

“I’d make a terrible James Bond. I hate being shot at and I have no love life.”

His Dad raised an eyebrow.

“Audrey?”

“We couldn’t make the long-distance thing work,” said Phil. It still smarted a little, but in the end, he’d been forced to pick his career over his relationship.  No contest, really, but… well, it still hurt. “Let’s face it, I’m married to my work.”

“Just remember, a work can’t give you a family,” his Dad said, and Phil looked at him with a carefully calm expression that didn’t give away Phil’s internal irritation.

“Dad, I have a family, right here. I have you and Mom and Jeannie and her kids. That’s enough family for me. I don’t have the right lifestyle for a kid. Besides, I’m the wrong side of fifty for that.”

“You’ll meet some bright young thing someday and change your mind,” his father predicted, just as Phil’s mother emerged from the kitchen.

“James, are you bothering Phil about children again?” she scolded. “You already have two grandchildren, so don’t use that as an excuse. If Phil doesn’t want a family, that’s his choice.”

“He broke up with Audrey,” Phil’s Dad informed her.

“Oh, no,” said Phil’s Mom. “Really, honey? I’m so sorry. Such a nice woman.”

“I’m fine,” said Phil.

“You always say that. I bet you’d say that if you had a bullet in your leg and the ceiling was coming down around your ears,” said Phil’s Dad.

Phil didn’t answer – mostly because his father was righter than he knew – and instead fixed him with a deliberately annoyed expression. His Dad held up his hands.

“Fine, fine, I’ll let it go.”

“You do harp on, sometimes,” said Phil’s Mom.

“Leave me alone, Suzanna,” Phil’s Dad complained. “So I give Phil advice from time to time.”

“Unwanted advice,” Phil pointed out.

“What happened to my good, respectful boy?” Phil’s Dad said mournfully.

“He grew up and began making his own decisions,” said Phil, at the same time as Phil’s Mom replied, “I seem to remember you once telling your own father to stick it in his ear, dear.”

Phil’s Dad looked simultaneously amused at the memory, and embarrassed that it was being brought up in front of his son.

“You told Grandpa to stick it in his ear?” Phil repeated, blinking.

“He was being an cantankerous old coot,” said Phil’s Dad defensively.

“That sounds like Grandpa,” Phil agreed, thinking of the cranky old man he’d nonetheless loved deeply.

“So what have you been up to, Phil?” his mother asked.

Phil thought of everything that had gone down in the last two years – the mess at Stark Expo, the thing with the hammer in New Mexico, the Loki affair, and now the mess with the Mandarin and the mysterious pillar of light that had destroyed Advanced Idea Mechanics headquarters.

“Not much,” Phil said. “Work. You know how it is. Doesn’t leave much time for anything else.”

“You need to make time for the things you enjoy,” said Phil’s Dad.

“Darling, he _does_ enjoy his work,” Phil’s Mom said dryly. “That’s the problem.”

“It’s not a problem,” said Phil. “Plenty of people wish that they enjoyed their work as much as I do.”

Just then April reappeared, holding a plush toy. It was… blue. And some kind of animal?

“This is Stitch,” said April, showing Phil the toy. “He’s my favourite.”

“Stitch?” Phil repeated the… unusual name.

April nodded seriously.

“He’s Lilo’s dog, but he’s not really a dog. He’s an alien.”

Helplessly Phil looked at his parents, hoping that they understood what April was talking about.

Phil’s Mom looked amused.

“He’s a character from April’s favourite movie,” she explained. “Isn’t he, April?”

April gave a nod.

“You want to watch _Lilo & Stitch_ with me, Uncle Phil?” she asked.

“Maybe later, sweetie,” said Phil’s Mom. “Your Mom is about to serve lunch, if I have any guess. Why don’t you put Stitch away and wash your hands?”

“Okay,” said April, and skipped off.

“Where’s Jason?” Phil asked.

“Upstairs, playing those computer games,” said Phil’s Dad disapprovingly. “We’ve barely seen the boy all day.”

“Jeannie and Mike gave him some new games for Christmas,” Phil’s Mom said to Phil. “Naturally he wanted to try them out. But it would be nice if he spent some time with us. Probably Jeannie will tell him to stay downstairs when he comes down for lunch.”

Just then Mycroft reappeared, collected his beer, and walked to the foot of the stairs.

“Jason!” he yelled up the stairs.

“What?” came the reply a few moments later.

“Shut off your game and come downstairs! Lunch is ready and your Uncle Phil is here!” Mycroft shouted back. “If you’re not down here in five minutes, I’ll come up and unplug the machine from the wall!”

There was no answer, but Mycroft rejoined Phil and the others as though he expected Jason to turn up soon.

The small group moved into the dining room, where Jeannie was placing platters of food onto the carved wooden table. That table had been Phil’s grandmother’s, and she had inherited it from a great uncle. No one knew exactly how old it was, but Phil suspected that at some point it should be valued by a professional. For all they knew, it was a valuable antique.

A moment later April joined them, going to the small plastic table next to the big carved wooden one, and sitting on a small child-sized plastic chair. She waited expectantly.

“Jason!” Jeannie bellowed, when everyone else was seated, and there was still no sign of him.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” grumbled an adolescent voice, and Jason appeared, taking his own seat at the table.

Phil’s father said grace, as he usually did. Phil couldn’t help thinking of Darcy Lewis, who claimed to be the archangel Michael. She certainly had superpowers unlike any he’d ever seen. Phil had almost died up on the helicarrier, but Michael had healed him with nothing more than an annoyed look. She wasn’t what most people would expect of an angel – let alone the right hand of God – but Phil couldn’t help but find himself about 85% convinced that she was indeed who she claimed to be.

He wondered if she heard it, when people prayed, and if so, what she did about it. Most of all, Phil wondered how she’d gone from being Darcy Lewis to a powerful archangel.

Phil pulled his thoughts back to the here and now as everyone said ‘Amen’ and began to eat.

Lunch was delicious, and cooked to perfection. Jeannie always had been an excellent cook, even if cooking large meals tended to stress her out a bit.

Afterwards, Phil helped Jeannie clear the table and put the leftovers away, and then everyone went back into the living room to exchange presents.

April shrieked with delight as she opened the two presents from Phil – a Disney Princess dress, and a Nerf bow and arrow set.

“Thank you, Uncle Phil!” she shouted, and hugged him.

“Yeah, thanks Uncle Phil,” Jason added, staring down in appreciation at the X-Box game Phil had bought him.

Mycroft and Phil’s Dad moved into the kitchen to do dishes, and Phil was left alone with his sister, his mother and his niece.

April pulled on the Disney Princess dress over her track pants and shirt, and asked if she could go to the park.

“Oh baby, no one wants to walk to the park,” said Jeannie apologetically. “Your Dad and I have spent all morning cooking lunch, and everyone else is full from eating all that turkey.”

April’s face fell in disappointment.

“I can take her to the park, if you want,” Phil offered.

“Oh, would you?” asked Jeannie gratefully. “It’ll do her good to burn off some of that energy; she’s been cooped inside for days.”

“We’re going to the park?” April asked hopefully.

Phil gave her a nod and a smile.

“Yay!” April’s expression brightened enormously.

“Go get your hat and coat,” Jeannie recommended, and April ran off.

“I’ll go get my stuff from the car,” said Phil.

“Thank you for this, Phil,” said Jeannie. Phil smiled at her.

“It’s not a problem.”

He was only at the car a couple of minutes, getting his hat and coat and gloves, and returned to find April waiting for him, wearing a jacket over her other layers of clothing, a pink beanie with a bobble on the top, and a pair of mittens.

“Alright, let’s go,” said Phil, taking her hand. Together they left the house.

The park was only a ten-minute walk away, and on the way there April babbled to Phil all about the Christmas decorations she’d made at preschool, visiting her friend Lindy, and the Christmas presents she’d received from her parents that morning.

As soon as they got to the park, April ran over to climb on the play equipment. To Phil’s surprise, they weren’t the only ones at the park. There was a couple sitting on a park bench together, and a couple of kids already playing on the play equipment, and being watched over by a man who was presumably their father.

“Watch me slide Uncle Phil!” April shouted, as she slid down the slide.

“You’re doing great, April!” Phil called back, and April beamed, running back to climb to the top of the slide again.

Phil let his gaze wander, without letting April ever leave his peripheral vision. He found himself staring at a tree, and it took him a moment to realise what was wrong with the sight.

A big, green, leafy tree, this deep in winter? Something was going on here.

Phil wandered closer, looking up at the sturdy trunk, to the greenery above. The tree was thriving, no trace of withering or frost visible on its leaves.

Without quite knowing why, Phil reached out to touch the tree.

Light and fire and _rage_ poured into him, filling him up like he was nothing more than a vessel to contain it.

* * *

Lucifer opened his eyes, feeling unsteady and disoriented. It took him a moment to find his voice.

“Well, that was unexpected,” he said aloud, marvelling at the sound of his human voice. He put a hand to his throat, and looked at the world around him.

The couple on the bench were gone, and the father of the two kids was still there, his back to Lucifer as he watched them play. But April was standing a few feet from Lucifer, staring at him, her eyes wide.

Lucifer’s first instinct was to attempt a reassuring smile, but it twisted strangely, and Lucifer let it fade.

Lucifer had no idea how to feel. Part of him insisted that the little girl in front of him was no more than another human cockroach, but another, equally strong part of his insisted that she was family, and beloved family at that.

“Uncle Phil?” April’s expression was uncertain. She reached for him, and even Lucifer wasn’t sure what he was about to do. He opened his mouth to speak.

There was the sound of wings, and suddenly the two of them were no longer alone.

Michael was there, her eyes wide and incredulous, but it was the second figure who held Lucifer’s attention. He was Tony Stark, but he was also someone else entirely. Someone who Lucifer knew to be dead.

Lucifer’s mind flashed back to killing Gabriel, remembering the scene in perfect detail, from the stench of blood, strong and coppery, to the look of pained, terrified betrayal on Gabriel’s face.

As quickly as it had appeared the memory was gone, and Lucifer wanted to throw up, even though part of him insisted that Gabriel had had it coming.

 _No, no, that’s not me,_ said a voice inside his head, angry and desperate. _I wouldn’t do that. Not to family._

Lucifer blinked, as competing voices set up an argument in his head, battling for dominance.

“Lucifer?” said Michael cautiously. She put herself between Lucifer and April, like she thought that he might hurt her.

The worst part was, she was right.

Lucifer’s gaze moved back to Gabriel.

“You’re alive,” he found himself saying.

“No thanks to you,” Gabriel said, radiating hostility, but underneath the hostility Lucifer could sense his fear.

Michael’s gaze flickered to Gabriel for a moment, full of concern, before her gaze moved back to Lucifer. She stood tall, her expression full of resolve.

Lucifer tried to think back to how he’d got here, and simultaneously got Phil Coulson’s memories as well as his own.

In one set, the last thing he remembered was touching a tree, but in the other…

The other set contained his Father. Lucifer closed his eyes, losing himself in the memory for a moment.

His Father had been so disappointed, but that was nothing new.

_“So what are you planning, to keep me locked up forever?” Lucifer had asked, pretending that he didn’t care._

_“NO,” said his Father. “I HAVE A LESSON FOR YOU TO LEARN.”_

And Lucifer had learnt it. He’d been human for fifty-one years, and he’d _lived_ , a life full of heartbreak and joy and devotion to an ideal, and oh, wasn’t _that_ familiar. Because Lucifer had been the most devoted angel of them all, once. Before his Father had cast them all aside, in favour of humanity.

 _It wasn’t like that,_ insisted the voice of Phil inside his head. _Can’t you see how you’re twisting it all up inside your mind?_

Lucifer opened his eyes again, and stared out at the people in the park.

They were flawed, defective aberrations, and yet he’d spent his entire life trying to protect them. Loved them, in spite of their imperfections. There was an entire family of human beings he’d do anything for, including the small girl standing behind Michael, still staring doubtfully at him in confusion.

Lucifer clenched his fist, and thought about how easy it would be to kill her. Humans, children especially, were so fragile.

“Michael,” said Lucifer. “Keep her away from me.”

“Like we’re going to let you near a kid,” scoffed Gabriel.

“Uncle Phil?” April asked again. Lucifer heard the sucked-in breath from Gabriel, and saw the way Michael’s face fell in pained understanding.

“Listen sweetheart–”

“April,” April corrected, looking up at Michael with big blue eyes.

“He’s not your Uncle Phil right now, okay? So I need you to keep away from him until I tell you it’s safe,” Michael said, and April nodded, trusting Michael’s natural air of authority.

“Uh-huh,” said April, and her eyes returned to Phil, her face worried.

The sight was like a punch to the gut, even as part of Lucifer insisted that the girl didn’t matter.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Lucifer murmured, his voice soft. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

And that was true and a lie at the same time, because he was still so full of rage, still determined to see the world _burn_. Only the little voice in his head held him in check, blazing fury loud and clear.

 _This is not you,_ said the voice of Phil. _You don’t have to do this. You can make a different choice this time._

“Oh yeah?” said Gabriel, responding to Lucifer’s spoken words. “Somehow that’s not very convincing. Look at your hands.”

Lucifer looked down to see that his hands were both clenched into fists, and realised, in a distant sort of way, that his vessel was registering pain. He unclenched his hands, and saw that his fingernails had punctured the skin. As he watched, the tiny wounds healed over.

“I…” said Lucifer, and stopped. He didn’t know what to do, or to think, or even how he felt. Everything was whirling around inside him, a maelstrom of fury and pain and fear, with that terrible rage dominating over everything.

Lucifer knew what would happen, could see it happening in front of him, like a movie rolling in front of his eyes. He’d hurt someone, and Michael and Gabriel would try and stop him, and maybe they would even be enough to defeat him, but people would be hurt and killed in the process and Michael and Gabriel would walk away with his blood on their hands, while the shadows of wings burnt themselves onto the ground. Or maybe Michael wouldn’t have the heart to kill him, or the strength, and Gabriel would die all over again and this time so would Michael, and there would be no one left to stop Lucifer from destroying this world, just as he had been fated to destroy his own.

The future stretched out in front of him, bleak and terrible.

 _Listen to me,_ said Phil’s voice. _It doesn’t have to be this way._

 _I can’t change my nature,_ Lucifer argued with himself. _This is the way it has to be._

 _No,_ said Phil’s voice, understanding but firm. _It doesn’t._

And Lucifer realised that he was right. There was a way out.

For a moment he stood there in indecision, battered by that internal sense of terrible rage, cold and pitiless and unforgiving.

He felt his lips twitch upwards in a smile, as he made his choice.

“Gabriel, I’m sorry for what I did,” he said calmly, meeting Gabriel’s angry eyes with his own, before glancing at Michael. “And Michael, I apologise in advance. But it’s the best way.”

Lucifer reached into himself, at the point where a human soul joined onto his Grace, and deliberately began to tear.

“What are you –” Gabriel began tensely, and stopped, as he saw what Lucifer was doing.

“ _Lucifer, no!_ ” Michael screamed, and tried to fling herself forward.

 It was Gabriel who held her back, murmuring urgently in her ear.

“No!” Michael said, and it came out as a sob, full of denial. “I can’t lose you!”

But Lucifer didn’t stop, just kept pulling at the connection between his soul and his Grace, ignoring the burning pain it produced, until suddenly there was a great ripping and tearing and Lucifer pushed his Grace towards the tree and–

Phil sank to his knees, a sense of loss filling him, although he didn’t know why. It took him a moment to realise that he had no memory of the last few minutes. He glanced around, more on automatic than anything – that terrible sense of loss still filling him – to see that April was standing some distance away, eyes like saucers, and that he was not alone.

Michael stood nearby, her face wet with tears, and Tony Stark was there as well, his face blank but his eyes full of conflicting emotion.

“What just happened?” Phil asked, and although he tried to speak calmly, his voice came out plaintive even to his own ears.

Michael wiped at her face with her jacket sleeve, and answered.

“You found a part of yourself that was missing,” she said, her voice choked up. “The part of you that made you an angel. But then you ripped it out again. You… chose to be _human_.” Michael’s voice broke on the last word, and she wiped at her eyes again.

Phil tried to digest that, but he was having trouble.

“And where do you fit into all this?” Phil asked Tony Stark, turning to him.

Tony gave him a patently fake smile.

“The archangel Gabriel, at your service,” he said. “I found my Grace – that’s the part of me which makes me an angel – only a few days ago.”

Phil didn’t understand any of this at all, but something deep in his gut told him that it was all true.

“I don’t understand,” Phil admitted.

“It’s pretty simple,” said Tony – Gabriel? “You used to be an angel. The part of you that makes you an angel was ripped out, and you were reborn as a human. Your Grace was stashed in that tree over there. When you touched it, you became an angel again.”

“This tree?” Phil went to gesture towards the tree he was standing near. Michael grabbed his hand.

“Don’t touch it,” she said, a pained look on her face.

“I wasn’t going to.” Phil looked at Tony. “Did you have your Grace ripped out?”

Tony flinched.

“In a manner of speaking,” he said, faux-casually, but his hand went protectively to his abdomen. Phil didn’t think Tony even realised what he’d just done.

“He doesn’t want to talk about that,” Michael put in. The lost look in her eyes had been replaced by something determined. “But look – whether you remember it or not, you’re my _brother_. That matters to me. So if you ever need help – if you find yourself in trouble – just pray to me, and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll remember that,” said Phil, because while he wasn’t sure about the brother thing, having an archangel willing to help him out sounded extremely useful.

The sense of loss  he felt was slowly fading, making it easier to concentrate on other matters.

“Which angel was I?” Phil asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

There was a long and fraught silence from the two archangels.

“Lucifer,” Tony said at last. “You were Lucifer.”

Phil blinked. He hadn’t expected that one.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Michael confirmed, looking sad again.

“You’re talking about the Devil,” Phil continued. “You’re saying that _I’m_ the Devil.”

“Yes,” Tony responded flatly.

Phil eyed him. From Tony’s body language and responses, Tony didn’t seem to be upset as Michael was about the fact that Phil was no longer an angel.

“I gather that he isn’t your favourite person,” said Phil.

“Considering he murdered me, you could say that,” said Tony, and flashed another fake smile, full of teeth. “If Dad hadn’t resurrected me, I’d still be dead.”

That hurt, somehow. Phil wasn’t close to Tony, but he liked him, exasperating though the man was. The thought of him dying…

“He – I mean, I – murdered you?” Phil repeated.

Tony sighed.

“Not you,” he conceded reluctantly. “You’ve lived a completely different life from Lucifer, and he isn’t a part of you anymore. You’re a good man, Agent.”

 _And Lucifer wasn’t,_ went unspoken, but Phil heard the implication anyway.

“It’s why you tore out your Grace,” Michael spoke up, sounding faintly proud, despite the lingering sadness in her face and voice. “Lucifer was rage and self-pity and a complete lack of empathy. You didn’t want to be him anymore. So you chose not to be, even though it meant losing your Grace.”

From behind Michael a small voice piped up.

“Is he Uncle Phil again?” April asked.

“He sure is,” said Michael, stepping sideways so that she was no longer standing between Phil and April.

April immediately ran to Phil, who caught her up in his arms and held her close.

“Are you okay, April?” he asked, looking her over closely.

“I’m fine,” said April. “The pretty lady told me to stay away until you were safe.”

Cold gripped Phil’s heart at the thought of anything happening to his niece.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting Michael’s eyes.

“Like we’d have let you hurt her,” said Gabriel. Michael just met Phil’s eyes, and nodded in acknowledgement.

“Uncle Phil, what’s going on?” April asked.

“It’s complicated,” Phil said, trying to think how best to explain the situation to her, and failing. “But let’s not tell anyone about this, okay?”

“But you were all glowy!” April protested. Phil filed that away for later consideration.

“Maybe, but you still can’t tell anyone, April. All that happened was that we went to the park, and you played on the equipment. I didn’t touch a tree, I didn’t glow, and I didn’t talk to anyone at the park. Understand?”

“Okay,” said April, her brow furrowed with concentration. “But why?”

“Because other people might be frightened if they knew what happened, kid,” said Tony, looking down at her intently. “They might not think that your Uncle Phil is safe anymore.”

“Oh,” said April, and held on to Phil tightly.

“We should probably go,” said Michael, glancing at Tony. “I was at my human parents house, and I didn’t exactly stop to explain where I was disappearing to.”

“Me either,” said Tony. He and Michael exchanged a look, one that spoke volumes.

“We’ll tell them we had to check something out, but we won’t mention what,” said Michael. “It’s better if no one knows who you are.”

“Safer, anyway,” added Tony. “You alright, Agent?”

Phil arranged his expression into a bland smile, even though he was far from feeling it.

“I’m fine.”

“Well then,” said Tony. “ _Adios, amigos_.” And he vanished into thin air.

Michael hesitated, giving Phil a long look.

“Are you really okay?” she asked, and it was weird to see the somewhat distant archangel showing so much concern. When Phil had been stabbed by Loki, all he’d gotten was an irritated look.

“I will be,” Phil allowed. “This is a lot to handle, but I can deal with it.”

“If you’re sure…” Michael drifted closer. “Remember what I said. And take care of yourself.”

Phil gave her a short nod, and Michael finally vanished.

April wriggled around, trying to escape Phil’s grasp, and Phil let her go.

“I want to go home,” said April. “Can we watch _Lilo & Stitch?_”

Phil thought that after the conversation he had just had, sitting down and watching a kid’s movie with his niece sounded nice and relaxing.

“Sure,” said Phil. He held out his hand, and April took it, her tiny mittened hand curling around his own. “Do you think Jason would want to watch it, too?”

April gave a disdainful sniff.

“He says it’s a _baby’s_ movie,” she told Phil, and sent him a sideways glance. “Uncle Phil, are you really the Devil, like they said?”

“Not anymore,” said Phil after a moment.

April nodded, satisfied.

“You’re too _nice_ to be the Devil,” she declared, and smiled up at him trustingly.

Phil wasn’t sure what to say to that.

The two of them walked back to Jeannie’s house, and rang the doorbell. It was a minute or so before Mycroft opened it.

“Hi Daddy!” April said, beaming. “Me and Uncle Phil went to the park, and now we’re going to watch _Lilo & Stitch!”_

Mycroft groaned slightly.

“Baby girl, haven’t you seen that movie enough times already?”

“But Daddy, Uncle Phil hasn’t seen it!”

“Yeah, Mike, what about me?” Phil teased his brother-in-law.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, and headed back to the living room.

The kids' TV was in the rumpus room, and Phil followed April there, taking a seat on one of the fold-out chairs as April carefully put the DVD on, before moving to sit on a cushion that was lying on the floor.

April was rapt in the movie, and it played, Phil thought about what had gone down in the park.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t remember anything of his time as an angel today, but the sense of loss was still faintly there. It was a familiar feeling, and Phil wondered how long he’d missed the part of him that was an angel, if the sense of loss felt so familiar that he barely noticed it.

He thought about how Tony had looked when he was speaking about Lucifer, and wondered exactly how terrible he’d been.

It wasn’t a comforting thought, but Phil looked across at April, and told himself that he wasn’t that person. Maybe Lucifer had been him, once, but he wasn’t Lucifer. Even Tony had told him so. And the archangel would know.

Still… he couldn’t shake the question… was Lucifer what he was capable of becoming, in the right circumstances? Or rather, the wrong ones?

“Hey,” said a voice near the door, and Phil looked around to see Jeannie smiling at him. “How are you two doing in here?”

“We’re fine,” said Phil. “Everything’s just fine.”

He smiled reassuringly, and tried not to feel cold inside.

 

 

 


End file.
